


Locks and Chains

by CaraLea



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, mentions of past rape/non-con, sequel fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 21:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaraLea/pseuds/CaraLea
Summary: After what happened with Felix, Wash is scared of what to say or to do, especially when Tucker invites him to stay during his heat.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LexiAchieves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiAchieves/gifts).



> Okay everybody, this is a sequel fic to [LexiAchieves](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiAchieves/pseuds/LexiAchieves) wonderful fiction, ["Things from a Nightmare"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3989737/chapters/8957848). It's the first fanfiction I read on ao3, and afterwards, I couldn't find it! I FINALLY did under the Locus/Tucker tag, but wowsa it was months before I did. After rereading it, I asked if I could write a sequel, which they graciously accepted. So this is for them and their amazing fic! I highly recommend you all go read it! (Some things here might not make sense without reading the first one).
> 
> A *TRIGGER WARNING* is in effect for this fic and it's predecessor. Here there are mentions of rape and their's straight up contains it, so proceed with caution.
> 
> Also, this is my first alpha/omega story and modern rvb au. I hope I did okay.
> 
> Anyway, kudos and review my friends!  
> CL

Lips against his. It was one of Wash’s favorite sensations. Well, _these_ lips against his was one of his favorite sensations. Not that kissing in general was bad. No it was still up there on his list of favorites. But there was something about kissing _Tucker_ that made it special. Something about the movements of his lips or the taste of his tongue in Wash’s mouth…it was _Tucker’s_ taste and _Tucker’s_ hair cupped in his Wash’s hand and maybe they didn’t do anything particularly kinky but the fact that it was _Tucker_ made it even better than kissing anyone else.

Or at least that’s how Wash felt about the whole experience. 

The first time he’d kissed Tucker he’d been surprised by the flash of heat he’d felt under his skin. As an Alpha, he’d never really gone into heat before. Not that he’d never been aroused, but this was different. He’d heard once, actually been told by just about everyone in his life, that when Omegas went into heat they went into a fevered sexual frenzy, unable to formulate real thoughts and sometimes unable to control even their own actions. Alphas never really went through that.

Unless an Omega sent them into one.

Wash had always assumed Omegas couldn’t remember much after their heats. Although that had been proven wrong to him many times, he was still surprised at the perfect clarity with which he remembered that first kiss. It was _months_ after Felix and Locus were arrested. He and Tucker were standing outside Tucker’s new apartment, which Tucker had begun to rent because it was closer to the house where Church lived. He remembered they were talking. Tucker had said one of his stupid pickup lines and they’d both been laughing. He remembered that moment with striking clarity, the genuine light in Tucker’s eyes and pearl of laughter was a real one. They’d stood in silence for all of two minutes before Wash closed that gap. 

The frenzy had started then. One second they were gently brushing each other’s lips, the next he had Tucker pressed against his own door with the a sudden ferocity. It gripped in from the inside out, clouding the air around them with overwhelming Alpha scent and slicking his skin with sweat and oil.

Shit. 

It had taken every once of will to pry his hands off of Tucker’s arms (gripping hard enough to leave marks!) and leave him there. And he had left him there, like that. Wash hadn’t looked back to see Tucker’s face, but he figured it was stunned. Anyway, he’d barely made it home. The boiling heat under his skin took over every instinct. He’d spent that night rubbing himself in the shower. It had taken three times before he felt even remotely satisfied.

Even the memory of it was effectively strong enough to make him shiver.

The second time was not any better. Nor the third. Tucker assured him that it would take _practice_ to make it work. But the playful look in his eyes had Wash shuddering and that fourth time was no easier. 

After a while, they managed to tame the beast in Wash to the point where they could kiss. Like they were now. It was all soft and gentle and didn’t have the fiery temper that got Wash’s blood boiling. This was light, playful. Effervescent. Wash loved it in a way that didn’t make him want to tear Tucker apart.

He always got a little scared when he lost control like that. The thing is, when Omegas went into heat, they literally could not control what they did. It was in their genes to do what they were told. As an Alpha, Wash was expected to be in control of himself at all times, even those when Tucker wasn’t. It was his responsibility to make sure he didn’t do anything Tucker wouldn’t normally want.

Which is what made what Felix did even more despicable. Many times, afterwards, when Wash was struck with the thoughts of what Felix had done to him…Wash had wanted to straight up kill him. Not that he’d ever take that happy job away from Carolina, but he’d definitely fantasized about it.

He’d told Tucker about those heavy-handed dreams once. The bronze-eyed man had stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, practically drooling on him before pulling him into one of those dizzying heat-flare kisses that left Washington reeling. It had taken every once of self-control that he possessed, but he did manage to escape Tucker that night. Another night of self-induced serious pleasure and a good long nap. He needed it before he saw Tucker again.

That had been four nights ago. Tucker had been all over him ever since, always up in his business and letting his touches linger a little too long. It was driving Wash _crazy_. Didn’t Tucker know that when he did things like caress his biceps or brush against him in _just_ the right way…(another shudder)…didn’t Tucker realize how this was affecting him? How it made him _so hot_ , crazy hot? It tickled his self-control and Wash couldn’t afford to slip up, not with anyone ever but especially not with Tucker. 

Which was his daily reminder to himself to keep his head on straight, to be responsible like a good Alpha should be. 

Wash pulled back with a sigh. He could feel Tucker burying his head into his neck. It was not a heated action, but it made Wash’s heart flutter anyway. He glanced over his lover’s shoulder. The clock glared at him. _10:04 pm_.

“I gotta go,” he said, pulling himself to his feet. 

Still on the bed, Tucker whined in his throat, giving Wash pause. “No, don’t go Wash. Why don’t you stay the night?” There was a twinkle in his eyes, one that Wash recognized as Tucker’s knowing exactly why he was reluctant to stay.

“I can’t,” he said hurriedly. “I have work tomorrow.” Which was true, he did have work tomorrow, but that wasn’t until tomorrow evening and they both knew it. Whatever. Wash would cling to this excuse if he could because they both knew the real reason Wash was leaving.

Tomorrow was Tucker’s heat.

“Aww Wash, don’t go,” Tucker said, his eyes pleading. Wash hesitated. A couple of weeks ago, Carolina has asked him why he waited to court Tucker when it was so clear they both wanted it. Wash had stammered through his answer, admittedly embarrassed that _Carolina_ of all people would be asking him such a question. Tucker had been abused. Raped. Wash would be _damned_ before he dared to push Tucker into something he wasn’t ready for. He wanted to be 100% absolutely no-doubt-about-it sure Tucker wanted it before he did anything. Making out here and there was fine. It pushed his self-control but that was okay because he still _had_ self-control. He was worried of being around Tucker in his heat. What would it push Wash into doing? What if Tucker said he wanted it during his heat but then after changed his mind?

There didn’t seem to be any doubt in Tucker’s eyes now as he kneeled on the bed with his hand outstretched. Nerves, definitely, but not doubt. His resolve wavered, the choice bouncing back and forth across the line carefully constructed in his brain. Stay or go? Stay or go?

“Please Wash,” Tucker whimpered. Wash’s mind cleared, the decision made.

Wash stayed.

…

Wash was a morning person. Always had been. Even now that he worked nights, sometimes not getting home until after midnight more exhausted than he’d ever been and he’d _still_ get up at 7:30am, latest, every morning. Today was no exception. Only today he was glad for his biological early morning wakeup.

The sheets were wet with a mixture of sweat and smelly oil. Wash had wanted to sleep on the couch for extra security, but Tucker had insisted Wash stay with him in the bed that night. Wash had been reluctant to agree, but Tucker was hard to bargain with, especially with that pouty look on his face Wash was becoming well acquainted with.

Tucker was still sleeping next to him, sprawled out and shivering as if he were cold despite the blankets wrapped around him. Waves of heat rolled off him in waves, making Wash twitch uncomfortably. And the _smell_ ….oh god, the Omega smell was intense. For once, Wash was glad for his early biological clock because it meant that Tucker was still asleep. Perhaps if Tucker had been awake, Wash would have snapped. As it was, he clung to his self-control like a magnet to a refrigerator.

Careful not to disturb the sleeping man next to him, Wash climbed out of the bed. First things first, he had to get a shower. To his surprise and- although he wouldn’t admit it, delight- Wash smelled like Tucker. The scent was intoxicating. In order to assist his slowly wavering resolve, he turned the shower to full blast on icy cold.

Well _that_ certainly woke him up.

He had never been with Tucker while he was in heat before, and Wash wasn’t entirely certain what he ought to do until Tucker woke up. Tucker had once told him that during those monthly interruptions to his daily life, he would curl up under blankets and watch Netflix. (He’d strongly hinted at the time that he liked to watch porn during that time too.) Wash bypassed that last thought altogether and decided to make the place comfortable for when Tucker woke up.

He started by rifling through Tucker’s hallway closet. It felt nosy, but Wash knew this was where Tucker liked to keep his comforters. He pulled out the thickest, warmest one he could find and laid it out neatly on the couch with a couple of pillows. Then he made his way into the kitchen where he began to work on breakfast.

The coffee pot was rumbling, the beeper going off on the toaster when Tucker walked in. He was still in his pajamas, his ruffled hair sticking up from a messy ponytail, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He froze when he looked at Wash.

Tucker’s eyes were only slightly dilated, but the smell was rather intense, especially as his eyes slid over Wash’s form with obvious interest. Wash took a deep breath through his mouth, not wanting to be overwhelmed by the Omega scent. 

“I-I made you breakfast,” he stammered, offering out a plate with food.

Tucker sniffed it interestedly. “Is that a bacon and egg sandwich?”

“I made cinnamon French toast,” Wash said with a smirk. “Your favorite.”

“Fuck yeah it is!” Tucker trilled happily, sitting down and shoving an enormous bite into his mouth. His eyes once again were focused on Wash, thoughtful and full of some other emotion, one Wash thinks he ought to recognize but in that moment he can’t.

While Tucker polished off his breakfast, Wash cleaned the counters and put the dishes into the dishwasher. He took out a large bowl and wiped it down self-consciously. Was the air supposed to be this tense when an Omega was in heat, or was that just because it was Tucker and Wash didn’t want to fuck this up? When the dishes clattered in the sink next to him, Wash jumped. He actually fucking jumped.

He turned as if to speak to Tucker and froze. The smaller man was definitely prowling closer to him, eyeballing him with heavy lids. His tongue flicked between his lips, wetting them. _Holy shit_.

“I-I’m making popcorn!” Wash stuttered, pressing bowl into Tucker’s chest and honestly, pushing the slight man away from him a little. He pretended not to notice Tucker stumble back a little. Or the disappointed look in his eyes.

When Wash finished crackling every last goddamn ear of popcorn, he ushered Tucker over to the couch. On the coffee table he set the popcorn and a warm mug of cocoa, bitter the way Tucker likes it, next to the remotes.

Tucker looked at the setup with wide eyes. As Wash helped set up the little nest for him, his eyes seemed to go distant, his pupils dilating a little more and his breath a little hitched. Wash patted the pillow one last time and turned to Tucker, trying desperately to ignore the awestruck look on his face.

“Well,” he said nervously, gesturing toward the setup without anymore words. Tucker flopped down immediately, looking up at Wash with dark eyes. He patted he sofa cushion next to him expectantly, and tugged at Wash’s hand when the latter didn’t sit down right away.

“I can’t,” he said breathlessly, trying to ignore the Alpha beast inside of him rearing its ugly head with want. Damn did he want to. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he knew if he sat his butt down on that couch next to Tucker _things_ would start happening and he’d be unable to stop it. Wash would rather have his all his fingers chopped off one at a time before he took advantage of Tucker in heat.

“No, I really can’t,” he said again, more firmly this time as Tucker was yanking at his arm again. His fingers were slick. Probably not from the grease of his breakfast sandwich. Gentle but steady, he pulled his hand back out of Tucker’s grip. “I have work.”

Tucker let out what could only be described as a keening sound, a noise of protest against Wash picking up his things. He tossed one last look at Tucker over his shoulder. The expression on his face was almost enough to make Wash stay. But he couldn’t. Tucker deserved better.

Wash waited until the door shut behind him before running.

…

“You smell like him.”

Wash had spent his shift so far in a kind of daze, but York’s words cut to his core. “What?” he asked, jerking his head around to stare at his one-eyed friend.

“I _said_ , you smell like him.” 

York crossed his arms, looking Wash up and down carefully. Wash knew better than to be offended. York was a deep, thoughtful man, and there were definitely times when he liked to poke fun at his friends, but he’d never seriously hurt anyone, verbally or physically.

His face was serious now. In fact, if Wash didn’t know him so well, he might have thought that there was something accusatory in his gaze. But York knew, everyone knew, that Wash took his position in Tucker’s life not with a grain of salt. His relationship with Tucker meant everything to him; he didn’t want to fuck it up. 

“I- well, yeah he- he asked me to stay the night again last night, and his heat started this morning. Not that I did anything inappropriate!” Wash explained in a rush. “I just- he was very…stinky.”

York laughed then. A very real, very _loud_ bark of laughter. Wash frowned and kicked him sidelong. That only made him bend a little, clutching his gut as he laughed _even harder_.

“It’s really not funny,” Wash growled. Really, why was York laughing this much?

“No, it’s not,” York agreed, standing upright again. “I mean, you trying to explain yourself like a kid caught in the act _is_ pretty funny. And it’s good that you’re treating Tucker so well, but _come on_ Wash. You really haven’t done anything with him?”

“No,” Wash answered. “I really haven’t.”

York cocked an eyebrow. “Why not?” 

“ _Why not_?” Wash spluttered. “Are you really asking me that? After everything he’s been through?!” He paused, looking down. “I won’t be like Felix, York. I won’t force Tucker into anything he doesn’t want to do.”

York leaned against the wall next to him, giving him that serious look again. “Wash, we all can appreciate what you’re doing here, but…are you sure that Tucker doesn’t want this?”

“What do you mean? Of course he doesn’t want it. You saw what Felix did to him!”

A pulse of what could only be described as hurt flushed through him at his own words. Tucker didn’t want him. He thought he did because of the heat, but Washington saw. He saw the way Tucker was gripped by nightmares each night, how he always _always_ had his back covered to cover those ugly scars, how he was slowly saving up money to get scar removal surgery to get Felix’s name off his back….Tucker was forever haunted by what he’d been through, and no matter what Washington could not take that away from him.

“Dude, he totally wants you,” York said after a moment. “I mean, yeah, what he went through…nobody would want that. But come on man, he asked you to stay for his heat! If that’s not an ‘okay’, I don’t know what is.”

Wash stared at him, hope fluttering in his chest. He opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off entirely too early. From just outside the door, two girls were clawing at each other’s eyeballs. With a last disparaging look at him, York went over and calmly broke up the fight. 

Within the hour he had both girls at the bar laughing.

…

Tucker’s new door had been very ugly to start out. Daisy and peach with red trim. Donut had practically thrown a fit when he’d first laid eyes on it before buying at least 3 cans of paint and getting to work. Not it was white with blue trim. Green trim? Aqua trim. Tucker’s favorite color.

Wash really didn’t know why he was here. He _told_ himself it was to check up on Tucker, make sure he was okay, but really why did he feel the need to do that? Tucker hadn’t left his house all day, what trouble could he have possibly gotten himself into?

He tried to convince himself it wasn’t because of what York had said, although that certainly didn’t leave his mind. With Tucker in the state he was in now, Wash didn’t want to breach the subject lest he push Tucker in the wrong direction. No, instead he’d wait until Tucker was out of his heat and then talk to him about. Like rational, reasonable adults.

Really, he shouldn’t be here. It was entirely irresponsible of him to show up unannounced like this, especially when he felt undeniable attraction to Tucker. It was his duty to be the levelheaded one in this instance and walk away. He should walk away.

His knuckles rapped against the door without his permission.

“Tucker!” he called, pushing the door open when he didn’t hear an answer. Everything looked set up the same. There was the nest he’d made for Tucker on his couch. Wash wasn’t entirely surprised to see a box of tissues (many of them used) on the coffee table, but it still made him stop.

The place reeked. Not of garbage or rotting food or whatever else might stink up a place. It reeked of Omega, of Tucker, of sex and used tissues and the _smell_ god the smell was going to kill him. He breathed through his mouth just to keep a clear head, but really it wasn’t helping that much.

“Tucker?” he called again, more uncertainly this time. He crossed into the kitchen; no sign of him. Down the hall. He poked his head into the bathroom. More used tissues in the garbage but no sign of the heated Omega.

Worry began to pool in Wash’s gut. What if Felix was back somehow? It wasn’t impossible that he had escaped. What if he was back and what if he had taken Tucker and-

_No. Don’t think like that Wash._

The bedroom was the last place he had to check, and now that he thought about it, it was probably very likely to find Tucker in there. He was in heat after all. Wash should go. He shouldn’t open that door and look inside. He should give Tucker all the privacy he needed during this very personal time of month.

Of _course_ his hand didn’t fucking listen. It hadn’t obeyed so far, why break the tradition? He watched his pale, ghost hand come up and push the door inward until he was standing in the threshold.

The sight on the other side of the door gripped him with such fervor, he couldn’t turn away even if he wanted to. Well maybe he could, in the .3 seconds it took to really register what he was seeing. But after that, nope it was nothing doing.

Tucker was entirely naked, his dick already hard in the open air. His eyes were blown wide, pupils entirely dilated. Slick sweat and oil were shining on his brown skin, dripping from his brown hair. His limbs were tangled in the soaked sheets and he was crawling, fucking _crawling_ towards him on all fours.

But that wasn’t what stopped Wash’s heart in his chest. No it was the smell _oh god_ the _smell_. Tucker’s Omega scent mixed with his personal scent mixed with sex smell and it was _intense_. It clogged his airways and fogged his brain and it smelled _so good_ and it turned him on _so hard_.

“I knew you’d come back,” Tucker said hoarsely. Wash’s keys dropped onto the carpet by his feet.

He wanted to speak. He tried to, really he did. But the only sound that came out what a guttural choking noise, caught in his throat. The waves of heat enveloped him, starting from his dick and spreading to every limb, every digit. _Shit_.

Tucker was reaching towards him then and Wash couldn’t think, couldn’t _breathe_. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was not supposed to lose himself in a haze of want in his brain and ignore Tucker’s wants in favor of-

_Dude, he totally wants you…_

Except this was _exactly_ what Wash was supposed to do. He was an _Alpha_. It was exactly his place to take control of the situation, to fuck Tucker raw and enjoy every second of it.

_he asked you to stay for his heat! If that’s not an ‘okay’, I don’t know what is…_

Tucker was reaching toward him hesitantly, as if unwilling to go any further without permission. In an instant, the Alpha Beast in Wash won, rearing it’s head with a monstrous roar. Or at least that’s what Wash felt. What really happened is he closed the distance between him and Tucker in two quick strides and shoved his tongue down the smaller’s throat. 

Oh god, the taste of Omega in Tucker’s mouth, mixed oddly with mouthwash of all things, dusted away all of Wash’s doubts. Tucker responded enthusiastically with what could only be described as a victorious whine. The conflicting sounds meshed together that way only made Washington push against Tucker _even harder_ until there were no spaces between them.

Wash paused long enough to pull his own shirt off, but immediately resumed pressing against Tucker, and the bare skin contact was good in all the right ways. Tucker was hot, like really, physically, temperature-wise hot. He was hot in the other way too, but the fever-like blast of his furnace chest made Washington shiver. There was sweat sliding down his body and the smell was even stronger.

But…Wash had had a long day at work. He was tired and his feet hurt. Right now, he wanted to fuck Tucker raw but it wasn’t good enough. He was not a mean-spirited Alpha, and truth be told he wanted Tucker to _enjoy_ this experience, to finally have a lay that would go well for him. So even though Wash was horny as all hell, even though his pants were tight around his erection, he put his hands against Tucker’s to stop him from rolling Wash’s bottoms down.

“Wash, please,” Tucker whined, leaning into him. “Claim me. Claim me.”

A deep guttural purr escaped Wash. A purr? A fucking _purr_. “Oh I plan on it,” he growled, and since when did he plan on “claiming” Tucker. Tucker was not an animal or a pet up for grabs! He was a person! But Wash’s response seemed to lighten Tucker. He was staring reverently up into Wash’s eyes, as if Wash were a gift directly from God sent straight to please him. It made Wash feel better about the whole thing. “But first you gotta know your place.”

He wrapped his arm around Tucker’s back, pulling him up into a deep kiss that tasted of that wonderful Omega taste Wash couldn’t get enough of. As for Tucker, well, he came up easily and clung to Wash like a lifeline.

At first Wash concentrated on Tucker’s mouth, kissing him ferociously even before he got his tongue in. He nipped playfully at Tucker’s lips before he bit down in earnest, reveling in the moan of pleasure he got from it.

After a bit of this, he let his fingers wander as they pleased, feeling up the muscles in Tucker’s arms and even clawing a little at the scars on his back, although Wash didn’t linger there, as it was clearly uncomfortable for everyone involved. Finally he brought his hand around, one arm still clamped to Tucker’s back and the other tweaking at a nipple.

“ _Shit_ ,” Tucker breathed, breaking the kiss, but Wash clung on to him anyway, running his tongue along Tucker’s lips before diving back in. He kept this up for a good few minutes before slowly, _tantalizingly_ dragging his hand down. He played with the skin along the crease of Tucker’s legs, causing him to shiver against Wash’s body.

Easy, he wrapped his loose fingers around Tucker’s shaft. It was already slick from the lubricants pouring out of the tip, and Wash felt an intense wave of arousal at the sensation. He moved leisurely, taking his time with each and every stroke. Soon, he had to give up on sucking the life out of Tucker’s mouth because the Omega couldn’t keep it closed. His jaw was agape and a steady supply of moans and heavy breaths was coming from him. He clawed desperately at Wash’s shoulders but the Alpha was determined to see Tucker get off before he allowed so much as a finger anywhere below the waist.

Soon Wash was leaning back, taking Tucker’s weight in his arm, practically cradling him while he pumped more steadily. When his thumb brushed the tip, Tucker’s hip jerked forward and a loud cry escaped.

Wash nuzzled his face into Tucker’s neck, where his lymph nodes were secreting the lubricating and smelly oils in an effort to attract a mate. Tucker’s body oil on Wash’s face was the best goddamn feeling in the world.

Tucker’s body seized up, all the muscles clenching inward. His pants hit the air in rhythm with his stuttering heart as he came hard all over Wash’s hand and Tucker’s stomach. Wash retracted his hand, looking down at Tucker’s body, all heavy-diaphragm breaths and licking lips.

A desperate need was brewing under Wash’s pants, so when Tucker fingered his waistline with a questioning look in his eyes, Wash gave in and nodded his permission. Tucker yanked his pants down with a look of glee, licked his lips one more time, and dove in as if he’d waited for this moment much too long.

“Oh!” Washington moaned, curling over a little. His hand came up automatically, cupping the back of Tucker’s head while the Omega bobbed up and down on Wash’s dick. The sight, the feel, the sensation, it was all too much and Tucker was brutal on him, pressing his tongue in and hollowing his cheeks and when he kept pushing from deep blowjob into deepthroating territory Wash saw stars.

“ _God_ that’s good, Tucker,” he moaned rapidly. “Yeah just like that. Damn. You’re mine. My Omega. My Omega my Omega…”

His rational brain would have thought that phrase was a bit too possessive, but later he would come to the conclusion that it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, to say it like that. No, he did not _own_ Tucker. He knew that, Tucker knew that. Everybody knew that. But he _did_ have Tucker’s affection, Tucker’s want. Tucker wanted Wash to jerk him off into shuddering and Tucker wanted to deepthroat Wash and somehow it clicked together that Tucker was his, and he was just as much Tucker’s.

Especially when Tucker’s tongue was playing with the underside of his head just like that. Shit. _Shit._ “Shit,” he cursed aloud. That was his most sensitive spot. How did Tucker know this?

But with the way Tucker was plowing on, Wash was going to finish much too soon. He still hadn’t really fucked Tucker and _God_ did he want to. He pressed his hands into Tucker’s collarbone and gave a half-shove. “Tucker, stop.” He meant to say it in a gentle voice, a reassurance, but it came out in a strong Alpha voice that Wash both hardly recognized and instantly identified with.

Tucker listened immediately, backing off to look up at him, all serious faced and wide-eyed. He was hard again (how could Tucker get so hard so fast? Oh right. Heat.) Wash grinned, knowing he was going to have fun with this.

 “Get up,” he growled, and Tucker hastened to listen, rising to his feet gently. Immediately as he could, Wash smashed his lips to Tuckers, shoving his tongue into Tucker’s mouth as vigorously as he could. Tucker responded enthusiastically, panting into Wash’s mouth when he pulled back. 

Tucker’s pupils were fully dilated now. There was sweat mixed with pheromones pooling on his temple, his chest, all over his body. It was absolutely the hottest thing Wash had ever seen. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to Tucker’s and breathing in that scent, letting the oil drip onto his body, where he knew the scent would linger. “Hands and knees,” he commanded quietly. “Now.”

Tucker gaped at him, but hastened to follow the order. Once Tucker was there on the bed with his backend facing him, Wash decided to play this out slower. Not that he didn’t want to fuck the living brains right out Tucker, but Wash wanted to _please_ Tucker, to make Tucker scream his name.

Ignoring his throbbing boner, Wash raced down the hall to the kitchen. Ordinarily, Tucker’s kitchen was a nice even temperature, even sometimes warmed by things baking the oven. Tonight, however, it felt exceptionally cold. Sweat beaded at his temple, an overwhelming scent choking the air around him. For a wild moment he felt as though he were suffocating. It took Wash a moment to realize that this was due to his own heat. Wash had never experienced heat in this way before. The cloud of scent around him was his own Alpha scent.

Once he got used to the sensation, he remembered why he was there. It took him a few minutes of rummaging around, but finally he found what he was looking for.

Back in Tucker’s room, he snapped a latex glove into place. Tucker’s body produced natural lubricants while in heat, but he divvied some lube onto his fingers anyway. The purpose of this was not to hurt Tucker, and he’d rather be extra cautious.

For a few minutes, all he did was rub his free hand along Tucker’s back. Slowly, he moved down, squeezing his ass along the way. Tucker shivered against the bed, moaning loudly. Wash rubbed his hand along the inside of Tucker’s inner thigh, making the Omega squirm with anticipation. He smirked, liking the flash of power that flowed through him. Being in control of the situation like this almost cleared his head.

“You’re mine, Tucker,” he breathed. Tucker’s moans only got louder. “My Omega. I am your Alpha. I’m going to make you feel _so_ good.”

To prove his point, he lowered his mouth to Tucker’s legs, kissing and even nipping at his inner thigh. Tucker rocked back as Wash’s finger circled his entrance. Wash waited, mouthing away at Tucker’s slick skin ( _tasting_ his oils and god was that good) and teasing at his ass until Tucker was practically whimpering. The sounds he was making were so desperate, it made Wash smirk.

“ _Wash_ ,” Tucker whined, and the sound of his name like that was so perfect, Wash felt his own dick twitch in response. _Shit_.

He was becoming impatient. Looking at Tucker’s writhing form, feeling his hot, slick skin, the smell of sex permeating the air, and the _sounds_ …it was becoming too much. He was losing himself the fog of lust slowly crowding his brain.

Tucker’s relieved moan when Wash finally slid his finger in almost broke his resolve entirely. With the extra lube, the going was easy, so Wash added a second finger after only a few pumps. Tucker jolted back, trying to absorb as much of Wash as he could. Wash thrust his fingers for a bit, scissoring them to try and stretch Tucker. But he had promised to make him feel good, and he really wanted to keep that promise.

So gently, he rubbed his middle finger against Tucker’s wall, feeling, testing the waters…he knew he found the right knot when Tucker nearly jolted out of the bed. Wash continued thrusting, eventually adding his third finger, but making sure to hit that spot every time. Tucker’s head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth agape.

Wash couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled out with a desperate whine from Tucker, discarding the glove and searching for a condom. Once he’d found one and lubed it up, he pressed his head against Tucker’s entrance, running his hands along his lover’s bare back.

“Do you want me to?” he asked. This time wasn’t for clarification and Tucker probably knew it. Wash’s voice was dark and rough, his hands leaving trails of tingles along Tucker’s back.

“I do,” Tucker gasped back at him. “Oh god, Wash _please-_ ”

It was enough for Wash. He thrust in deep, causing Tucker to scream. For a moment he hesitated, waiting to see if Tucker was going to have a panic attack. But no, Tucker was still writhing against him. Vaguely Wash recognized the pressure against his hips as Tucker backed against him, trying to take in as much as he could.

After a pause, Wash began to pull back before slamming back into him, slow at first, then faster with time. Wash adjusted the angle until Tucker cried out again. Oh that feeling was good. Not just the physical sensation of his dick deep in Tucker’s ass, but the feeling that overwhelmed him when Tucker began moaning _loudly_ in pleasure. His chest felt almost constricted as he watched Tucker fall to pieces- _good_ pieces- right before his eyes. By his hands.

It wasn’t long before the heat began to move. Rather than being all over his body, Wash could feel it moving downward, toward his gut. _No_. He _refused_ to come before Tucker. To help out the process (cheater) he reached around and gripped Tucker’s dick, pumping in rhythm to his thrusts. 

This was definitely the right call. When Tucker came, clenching around him, head thrown back…it was just perfect and Wash wouldn’t have wanted to come to any other sight. His own moan echoed Tucker’s loudly and he thrust in once, twice…

He pulled out, peeling off the condom and tossing it into the bathroom wastebasket. While there, he quickly washed his hand of Tucker’s come before returning to the room. Finally, he flopped down on the bed next to Tucker.

Their mixed scent was on the sheets, on each other’s skin, in the air around them. Wash loved it. He could smell that scent forever, minty tangerine mixed with cocoa and coffee. It was _their_ scent, their unified scent. It marked them as taken, as each other’s.

He ran his fingers lightly along Tucker’s arm, who shivered in response. “You like that?” Wash asked gently.

Tucker rolled over and looked at him, eyes almost back to normal. “Hell yeah,” he answered, sounding more like himself now that his horny thirst had been satiated for the time being. “I love everything about you. That’s why I wanted you to stay.”

Wash froze, looking at Tucker for a long moment. A blush crept into Wash’s cheek as he answered, “I- I love you too, Tucker. That’s why I- I didn’t want to hurt you or force you into anything-” 

“Dude, I know you’d never hurt me,” Tucker echoed from the previous night. “That’s _why I wanted you to stay._ ” 

They lied there for a while, each drinking in the other’s presence. Warmth formed in Wash’s chest, protective in nature, blossoming like a flower and bursting like an explosion. Tucker was his Omega now, and he was Tucker’s Alpha. It was his job to protect him, to defend his place as Tucker’s Alpha, to make sure that he was well taken care of. 

Well maybe that was a smidgen romanticized. After all Tucker was an adult and could take care of himself. But Wash liked the idea of looking after Tucker, of fighting the world in order to keep him. He wanted to.

“So…” Tucker breathed, running his hands over Wash’s chest. “Now that I have you naked in my bed…” 

Seriously? Did sex only keep the heat at bay for a whole ten minutes before Tucker was ready to go again? If Wash was being honest with himself, he kinda did want to. But he’d had work that day, and he was too tired.

“Go to sleep Tucker,” he responded, smirking into his lover’s mouth. “I’ll still be here tomorrow.”


End file.
